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math poem

per verità, per amore
non prego per pace
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
città che non è una città
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
veda, da questa falsificazione di lui
qui cade nessuna luce

 



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